Riddle Chronicles: the new DADA teacher
by Strannik
Summary: [Incomplete AU] Harry, Ron and Hermione are in for a big shock when they're intoroduced to a newest member of Hogwarts faculty. But nothing is quite what it seems
1. Prologue

RIDDLE CHRONICALS Book 1:  The new Defense Against Dark Arts teacher 

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter books and all the characters featured in it are property of J.K. Rowling and whomever else they belong to. Ayumi, Tom, Miyuki, Mei Ling and all the other original characters mentioned in this story are products of my imagination and therefore belong to me.

Prologue 

I was packing my suitcase. The truth of the matter was there wasn't a whole lot for me to pack. My sad, tragic life has taught me that the most important things are the ones you keep in your heart. Other then a few essentials, the material things didn't really matter.

I packed a few books on the Defense Against the Dark Arts. Not that I needed them, anyway. With the possible exception of Remus, I knew more about Dark Arts then any other teacher in the recent history of Hogwarts. But the students could not know that, so I had to at least pretend I needed the books.

I packed a few robes and other wizard clothing. I reminded myself to change into the wizard clothing when I got to Hogwarts. I always preferred Muggle clothes: it had much more variety and it was far more practical then the wizard attire. But I knew no student was going to take a professor dressed in Muggle clothing seriously, so I had to make a few sacrifices. 

I glanced over all the pictures on my desk and picked up the one in the middle. It showed a young couple: a dark-haired young man in black pants with a shirt to match and a young woman dressed in the traditional robes of the Shinto priestess. Her dark hair was bound in a bun. The young man was smiling: for the first time in his life, he felt the sweet taste of true happiness. The young woman had an expression of pure jubilation. And even though the picture was taken using a Muggle method, it conveyed just as many emotions as any magical picture. 

I felt a tear streaming down my cheek:

"Miyuki," I whispered softly, "my precious Miyuki… I miss you so much… "

I carefully wrapped the picture and put it in my backpack's front pocket. 

I picked up another picture. The couple was older now. They were dressed in casual European clothing. Miyuki's long beautiful hair was loose this time. She had one arm around her husband, while the other arm was holding a little baby girl. 

"I wish you could see her now, Miyuki. Our daughter has grown into a beautiful young woman. You would have been proud."

I took that picture, too. I picked up the latest picture of my daughter and put it right next to the others. Finally, I picked up a picture in a golden frame. Unlike most pictures on my desk, this was created using the magical method. I don't like using the magical method simply because it required wizard money, which I don't have a whole lot of. But Miyuki persuaded me that this was worth it. I gathered just enough money to make two photo portraits: one of Miyuki and one of myself. We agreed to keep each other's pictures. That way, no matter how far apart we were, we would always have a piece of each other. 

Four days later, Miyuki was taken away from me.   

I couldn't take it anymore. I broke down and cried. I cried for poor, innocent Miyuki, who did not deserve to be slaughtered by a ruthless, wicked monster. The monster that took special pleasure in robbing meof everything I held dear. 

My own past was filled with innocent blood, and I knew it. But why did this monster have to drag Miyuki into it? Her only crime was trying to help me find the light and come to terms with my darkness. She deserved to have a good, happy life. She did not deserve this… She did not deserve this.

The picture of Miyuki looked back at him, no longer smiling. The expression was all too familiar. It was Miyuki's patented if-you-dare-to-be-depressed-around-me-I'll-tickle-you-to-death look. 

"What do you know," I asked the picture, "you are just a piece of Miyuki's soul implanted into magical photo paper. You are not real Miyuki and you never will be."

Yet, despite myself, I smiled.

"Still, you are right. I cannot wallow in sadness. Ayumi needs me. The Order of Phoenix needs me. And my future students: I guess they need me, too."

With the new determination, I put the picture back in his pocket. 

"Dad, are you ready yet?" asked Ayumi

I looked around the room. There was nothing more for me to pack

"Yeah, I'm coming."

I picked up my backpack, a suitcase and Nimbus 2000 (a present from Dumbledore) and headed into the living room. 

Ayumi was already there, surrounded by a bunch of suitcases. It never seized to amaze me that she looks as much like her mother as she does like me. She was only eighteen, yet she seemed just as mature as me when I was her age. While the emerald in her eyes was mine, the warmth in her eyes was definitely Miyuki's. Her medium-length black hair was dyed a rebellious shade of red popular among Japanese teenagers. Her fashion sense was definitely mine: Ayumi always had a special fondness for nice, yet practical clothes colored with darker shades of natural colors. 

Ayumi is my pride and joy. She is beautiful, curious, clever, kind and always full of life. Sure, at times, she can be a handful, but so was I when I was younger. No matter what, she will still be more precious to me then anything else in this Universe. And no matter what she decides to do with her life, I will always be there for her. 

"I can't believe it," I smiled, "my little girl is going to college. Where did the years go…"

"Oh, come on, dad, I am not a little girl anymore."

"You'll always be a little girl to me. It's a father-daughter rule. Now, come on, let's get going. The cab is waiting."

It took us some time to get all the luggage down to the first floor, lock the door and put a few charms around it to protect it from magical robbers. It took us even longer to load Ayumi's luggage into the cab. 

"Well…" I said when we were finally ready to go

"Well…" echoed Ayumi

"I guess this means goodbye."

"Oh come on, dad, it will only be for a few months. And I'll call you everyday."

"Just remember, cell phones don't work in Hogwarts, so you'll have to use telepathy."

"But isn't Hogwarts suppose to be protected from ALL forms of outside magic?" smiled Ayumi

"Nope. While it's protected from all forms of European, Arab and American magic, most magic from Africa and Asia can get through the magical defenses like it's nothing. Just don't tell Dumbledore I said that."

"Well, in this case, I'll call you as soon as I get settled it."

"Don't forget, there is an eight-hour time difference between Hogwarts and Japan, so plan your calls accordingly. I don't want to have to wake up two a clock in the morning unless it's an emergency." 

"Sure, dad," she said playfully. 

"Well, I don't think I have to tell you about all the things you shouldn't do. You are too smart for this kind of stuff. Just be careful. And if there is anything you need, call me: I'll be there."

Suddenly, Ayumi rushed up to me, wrapping me in a bone-crushing hug. I hugged her back. 

"Oh, daddy, I am going to miss you so much!" 

"I know, honey, I'll miss you, too."

We held each other for what seemed like forever. Finally, we let go of each other.

"Bye, Dad," Ayumi said as she climbed into the cab, "good luck! And tell Sirius I said _hi._"

"Goodbye, Ayumi-chan!" I winked. She blushed, but only a little 

As the cab rode off, she continued waving until the cab was out of sight. 

"Great," I mumbled to myself, "now what am supposed to do?"  

To think that all this time, I was worried that Ayumi wouldn't make it without me. For the first time ever, we were going to be apart for more then a month, and already I had no idea what I was going to do without her.

I shrugged:

"Well... I guess this is it. Hogwarts, here I come."

I took one last look at Odaiba, a small town in Tokyo Megalopolis that has been my home for the past decade. With the new determination, I picked up my luggage and Apparated to the Hogsmeade Station. 

Suddenly, I was falling down a tunnel that didn't seem to have a beginning or an end. My body refused to move an inch. There was nothing I can do to stop the fall. No matter how many times I have done it, this revelation still sends chills down my spine. 

 Then, just as suddenly, it stopped. 

The world around me slowly came to the focus as I found myself standing in the middle of an empty platform. My luggage appeared by my side. I scanned the area. Naturally, the sun was already setting. A tall figure in the worn, shabby robes was standing nearby, chuckling:

"Gotta love transcontinental Apparation, huh?"

"Remus!" I shouted accusingly, causing him to chuckle even more. I tried to walk over and give him a piece of my mind, but I was still dizzy from the trip. It took me great effort not to fall over.

"Hello, Tom," he smiled, "it has been a long time."

As he walked toward me, I noticed that he looked older, more worn-out then I remembered him. Yet, despite his decaying façade, he was still full of energy. 

"Indeed, old friend," I smiled back. 

We shook hands.

"How have you been, Tom," asked Remus with sincere concern in his voice. 

Normally, I would just shrug it off and say I am fine. But I knew this wouldn't work with Remus. We both had a dark side we desperately wanted to get rid of. And we both lost people we loved to the Dark Lord, so he understood what I was going through.

I sighed:

"It's better now. I still miss Miyuki, of course, but it doesn't hurt as much. I won't lie to you: it's hard. But I manage."

"I know what you mean," Remus commented sympathetically

"What about you?" I asked as we headed for the carriage that was waiting nearby. 

"Well, my fiancé ran off with some American wizard, I haven't had a decent job for almost a year, my landlord is increasing the rent and I am running out of money to pay it. Other then that, everything is great."

"You should come to Japan." I suggested as I climbed into the carriage, "The wizards over there don't care about the werewolf crap. And I can think of several places which are in desperate need of a Defense Against Dark Arts specialist."

"I'll think about it," he allowed 

"So," I inquired as I put my luggage on the opposite seat, "how is the Order?"

"Busy. Everybody has been running around, trying to make sure things don't fall apart before we'll even have a chance to make a move. Things have changed since the Order was disbanded. Too many people died. Many of our former allies don't want anything to do with us. Things none of us could have possibly predicted happened. But most importantly, we lost respect of the magical community. Last time around, we had years to prepare. We don't have that luxury any more. It's going to be a lot harder this time. "

"I know, Remus," I nodded sadly, "but we have to try anyway. Because doing something, however futile it may seem, is better then doing nothing at all."  
  


"I guess you are right," he nodded solemnly 

I decided it was a good time to change the topic:

"Listen, I am a little knew at this whole teaching thing, so I would appreciate any helpful advice. Is there anything I should know before I start? "

"Sure," he said, handing me a thick roll of parchment, "here are my notes. Don't rely on them too much and you'll be fine."

"Thanks" 

"So, Tom, what have you been up to lately?"

"Well, my team finished compiling the GWR database for Japanese Ministry of Magic. The Magitech Corp Board of Directors was very pleased. Plus, with Ayumi starting college, things have been very hectic. I swear, Muggle colleges require more paperwork then the International Federation of Warlocks Budget Committee processes in a year! And as if that wasn't bad enough, I found out that the license on Miyuki's shrine has expired, so I had to go to the Ministry and wait for days to get that taken care of…"

As the carriage raced to Hogwarts, I continued chatting with Remus, forgetting all about the Dark Lord, the Order and the hard task ahead of me. Despite all that happened lately, it was good to be back. 


	2. Chapter 1: Late Arrivals and early supri...

**Chapter 1: ** Late arrivals and early surprises

Harry Potter was packing his school supplies as he was preparing to go to the Defense Against Dark Arts class. It has only been two days since his fifth year in Hogwarts began.  That meant a new schedule, new responsibilities, harder classes, and, of course, a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Since Harry and his friends missed the banquet, he had no idea who that teacher was. All he heard was rumors that were so contradictory it was impossible to determine anything. The only thing he knew for a fact was that he was a man and (according to girls), he was quite handsome. 

"Please don't let him be another Lockhart!" prayed Harry as he finished packing his supplies.

He glanced over at Ron, who was almost done as well. Judging by the look on his face, his hopes mirrored Harry's. 

They had to wait another minute for Hermione to show up. 

"Are you ready?" asked Ron

"Yes," she smiled briefly, "I can't wait."

They were exiting the common room when Harry noticed that Hermione was struggling with her bag.      

"Let me help you with this," Harry volunteered

"No, it's alright, I can handle it," assured Hermione, "Besides, your bag is just as heavy as mine."

"Tell me about it," said Ron, "that encyclopedia has to weigh a ton"

Ron was referring to the 500-page-long Worldwide Encyclopedia of Magical Combat that made its way onto this year's supply list. It didn't take a genius to figure out who put it there. 

"Why would a Defense Against Dark Arts teacher want us to buy something like this," wondered Harry, " when he could of just stuck with the ordinary school books?"

"Harry, this is the Defense Against Dark Arts teacher we are talking about," pointed out Ron, "weirdness is in their job description. "

Hermione just shrugged. As far as she was concerned, books could do no harm. 

They spent the rest of the walk to the Defense Against Dark Arts class talking about casual, everyday things. Harry was no longer paying attention. He thought about Cho. When he last saw her during breakfast, she was casually chatting with her friends, looking as joyful as ever. But Harry could tell it was all a façade. He desperately wanted to talk to her, to do something, anything to make her pain go away. But what could he possibly say? What if Cho blamed him for Cedric's death and didn't want anything to do with him? Harry shook his head in frustration. This was getting nowhere!

By the time he reached the classroom, Harry was in a very bad mood. He slammed his books against the desk, earning quite a few stares from the other students.  Harry didn't care. He sat back, hoping that the class would end as soon as possible.

But fates obviously didn't want Harry Potter to dwell on the matters of the heart, for as soon as the teacher walked in, all his troubles were quickly forgotten.

At first, Harry didn't think much of him. He was a tall man with hair darker then the starless night and striking emerald eyes. He was dressed in elegant robe that matched the color of his hair. Suddenly, Harry had a nagging feeling that he had seen this man before.  

"Hello, class," he smiled warmly, "for those of you who haven't seen me at the banquet, my name is Tom Riddle…"

Harry sat there, as stiff like a gargoyle in the sunny afternoon. He could not believe what he just heard. The new Defense Against Dark Arts teacher was… Tom Riddle?

No! That simply wasn't possible! Yet, as Harry looked at him, he realized that there was an unmistakable resemblance between the new teacher and a 16-year-old version of Voldemort Harry fought three years ago. If Voldemort didn't undergo his transformations, he probably would have looked something like this.

_No, he wouldn't_, realized Harry.  Tom Riddle was born over sixty years ago. Yet this man looked about Sirius' age. 

What in the world was going on here?

Harry glanced at Hermione, hoping she would have some kind of explanation. Judging by her expression, she was trying to come up with one, but failing miserably. Ron was paralyzed with shock. 

The other students acted as if nothing extraordinary happened. Why should they? Aside from Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione, none of the students knew that Tom Riddle and Voldemort were one and the same. 

This had to be part of Voldemort's plan. Yet, it seemed too obvious. And why was Dumbledore allowing this?  Nothing made any sense.  

As Harry tried to digest this new development, he realized he was jumping to conclusions. So far, the new teacher hasn't done anything to harm the students. Maybe this was all a misunderstanding. All Harry could really do was wait and see what happens next. 

Meanwhile, the new teacher finished taking attendance and began his lesson. 

"What is magic? Is it something fixed that must follow strict guidelines, or is it something flexible?" he smiled as a hand shoot up, " Ms. Granger?" 

"I think magic is something fixed. We use spells and charms to get a certain effect. If there is as much as a slight mistake in the spell casting, the effect will be completely different. Saying that the magic is flexible implies that we can use the same spell to achieve different effects, or use different spells to achieve the same effect, which is simply not possible. "

"You have a valid point, Ms. Granger," responded Professor Riddle, "but I am afraid you are forgot something very important."

"What is that?" asked Hermione, unable to contain her curiosity.

"The spells are created by wizards. If your theory is correct, it's not possible to achieve a certain effect unless a spell to do it is created. Anybody familiar with wizard history knows that's simply not true. Egyptian wizards levitated large stone blocks millenniums before Wingardium Leviosa was invented. Chinese wizards can levitate for up to five minutes _without using any spells at all_. I am sure most of you can think of at least one similar example. "

Hermione looked like she wanted to crawl into a deep hole and never come out.

"The truth is magic is not exactly fixed nor completely flexible. It is kind of like stars in the sky: when different people look at them, they see different constellations. Over the ages, different wizards came up with different ways to do magic. Some require wands, some don't. Some of them stuck, while others faded into obscurity.  The way taught in most of North American and European schools is known as "Merlin Magic", after one of it's major pioneers and practitioners. Other schools in other parts of the worlds have different methods. 

"You must be wondering why I am telling you all this. Let me demonstrate."

As the class watched in amazement, a red fireball slightly larger then a snitch appeared in professor's hand. He tossed it in the air and pointed to the ceiling. The fireball rocketed up, gaining speed as it flew. But before the ball could crash into the ceiling, he pointed the right. The ball immediately changed course. Every time it looked like the ball was going to crash into something, the professor made it fly somewhere else. Left, right, down, up, sideways, diagonal, right, left, down, left, up, down, right, diagonal… The ball changed direction faster and faster until suddenly, it flew towards Draco Malfoy. Before anybody could stop it, it was millimeters away from his face.

Just everybody thought it was all over for an arrogant Slytherin, the fireball exploded into a cloud of harmless sparks. One by one, the students looked back at Professor Riddle. He stood with his fist clutched. A small smile crept across his face. 

"It is called _Enjou_ _Yousei. _It's a fairly common incantation taught in schools of East Asia."

Harry could not believe it. Tom Riddle actually enjoyed scaring the son of one of Voldemort's most devoted servants.  

"It's hardly lethal," continued Professor Riddle, " any fifth-year student should have been able to block it. So, why didn't you?"

Nobody answered

"You weren't prepared. You couldn't have possibly expected me to use a form of magic you never even heard of. How can anyone expect you to counter it? But do you think a dark wizard who is out to kill you will make sure he uses a spell you _know_ how to counter? No! 

"It is rather narrow-minded to limit your arsenal simply because the spells are different from what you are used to.  You must be willing to see beyond the boundaries of Merlin Magic and try something new. That way, you would have a much better chance to defend against any form of Dark Magic. You will be able to catch your attacker off-guard. You will be prepared to expect the unexpected. However, if you are not willing to open your mind, you will never succeed in the class.  So, if any of you feel like you can't handle it, please speak now. "

Once again, the class was silent.

"Good," nodded Professor Riddle,  "let's begin.

"_Abstergeo_ is a simple spell that goes back to the days of the Roman Empire. It is one of the most underrated spells in Merlin Magic It neutralizes all magical traps and disguises in your vicinity. Countless wizards died because they didn't use it when they stepped into a potentially dangerous territory. Let's hope you'll never make that mistake. "

Professor Riddle reached into his robe pocket, producing a wand. It was about fourteen inches long and had tiny golden symbols engraved on its side. Harry could of sworn he'd seen those symbols somewhere before. Using this wand, Professor Riddle began to demonstrate the spell step-by-step:

"First, point you wand so it's tip is directly in front of you. You arm must be perfectly straight. Then, think of your wand as a paintbrush, trace a circle around you and say _Abstergeo_. When you do this spell, you must keep your arm straight at all times. And be careful: if you mispronounce _Abstergeo, _the spell won't work_. _."

Professor Riddle had everybody say _Abstergeo _until he was sure they pronounced it perfectly. The, he made all the students stand up and practice the hand motions. At this point, Harry was acting purely on autopilot. This whole thing felt like a crazy dream. Just when he thought he had it figured out, Tom Riddle did something completely unpredictable. 

Meanwhile, Hermione seemed to be genuinely enjoying the lesson. 

_Typical, _thought Harry_, give her a chance to learn and nothing else will matter_. 

"Mr. Potter," said Professor Riddle, sending Harry several feet into the air, "your movements are all stiff. In order for this spell to work, you have to be relaxed. Let the magic flow naturally. Now, try again."

Harry followed the Professor's advice. 

"There, that's much better," smiled Professor Riddle. Despite Harry's confusion and doubts, the smile felt genuine.

After Professor Riddle was satisfied with everybody's performance, he told the students to return back to their desks.

After everybody was seated and settled down, he reached into the pocket of robes, producing a small bag. He opened it, revealing a bunch of seeds. 

"These are the Jakori Seeds. They are incredibly rare: unless you know where to look. If you crush this seed between your fingers and throw it in the air, none of the curses will have any effect on you. Each seed will protect you for two minutes, so the more seeds you have, the longer the protection lasts. But once you use them, there is no way to reuse them again, so you must be careful not to waste them.

"Each of you will get three seeds. You'll need one for the final exam and you can keep the other two. If you want more, I am afraid you'll have to look for them your own time." 

Professor Riddle waved his hand. The seeds flew, landing on each desk. Harry counted them. Three seeds, no more, no less. He quickly stuffed them in his pocket.

"_Kiri engai _was developed by the wizards of Tibet. It creates a very dense, white fog. Not only does it confuse your opponent, it interferes with any spell cast within its range. The fog will hold for six minutes. To cast the spell, you must put your arm forward, open your hand and say _Kiri engai._ "

Everybody was watching Professor's demonstration when suddenly; the room filled up with fog so dense Harry could barely see his desk. 

"Now, try to attack me," said Professor Riddle. 

Many students hesitated, but Harry was curious. Maybe this is what Tom Riddle wants him to do. If Harry attacked him, he would have no choice but defend himself. No, Voldermort wasn't that stupid. 

Still, how he reacts to an attack might provide a clue to his true identity.

"_Casus Accelero!_" exclaimed Harry, pointing his wand in the direction of Professor Riddle's voice

This spell was supposed to trip the person it's directed at. It was hardly lethal, but very effective.

Problem was, the spell didn't hit Professor Riddle. Later, Harry learned that the spell hit Neville with full force. But at the time, all he heard was a loud thud and a yep of pain. 

"_Abstergeo!_" exclaimed Hermione. In an instant, the fog was completely cleared.

"Very clever," smiled Professor Riddle. Turned out he was standing in the different side of the room then he was when he cast the spell, "excellent job, Ms Grander."

"Do you still want me to attack you?" she inquired

"No, thank you. Fifteen points to Gryffindor. For homework, practice all the spells I taught you today, because tomorrow, there will be a test."

Just when he finished his sentence, the bell rung. 

Harry quickly grabbed his bag and rushed to join Hermione and Ron. They had much to discuss. 

_____________________________

**Author's note:** The spells in this chapter are either in Latin or Japanese. Like the spells created by J.K. Rowling, their names mean their effect. The word "Jakori" is just something I made it up.


	3. Chapter 2: Different sides of a mysterio...

**Chapter 2:** Different sides of a mysterious Riddle

"Has Dumbledore gone senile?"

Harry, Hermione and Ron were heading for Gryffindor common room. As soon as they exited the Defense Against Dark Arts classroom, they launched into a heated discussion about the new teacher.

Harry considered Ron's comment:

"At this point, I am willing to believe anything."

"Oh, come on, you guys," said Hermione, "Dumbledore may be a little odd, but he is as sane as any of us."

"Do you have any better explanation?" asked Harry

Hermione rolled her eyes:

"Have you ever considered that Professor Riddle might simply _have the same name_ as you-know-who?" 

"Sure, except he _looks_ just like Voldemort… I mean, you-know-who."

"Really? Personally, I thought he kind of looked like _you_." 

Harry had to admit she had a point. He and Tom Riddle did look alike. Even Voldermort acknowledged that. 

He reminded himself that Hermione didn't actually see the sixteen-year-old version of the Dark Lord. She couldn't understand that the similarities between Tom Riddle and the new teacher went beyond eye color and hair. Professor Riddle was slightly taller, older and was a bit more built, but other then that, he and Tom Riddle were absolutely identical. Even their voices were indistinguishable.

But he couldn't explain to Hermione. She would never buy it unless she seen it for herself.

"Don't be ridiculous," Ron interrupted Harry's train of thoughts, "he looked nothing like Harry"

Hermione rolled her eyes, making it clear that although she disagreed with Ron, she won't argue this point.

Instead, she asked:

"If Professor Riddle is really Voldemort, then why would he attack Malfoy?"

"Mr. Crouch's son was a Death Eater," pointed out Ron, "but that didn't stop him from turning Malfoy into a ferret."

"Good point," admitted Hermione, looking very uncomfortable 

_That's a second time today Hermione was corrected_, thought Harry, _must be some kind of record._

"I think we are all jumping to conclusions," Hermione insisted wearily, "there has to be…"

At this point, Ron exploded:

"_WE'RE JUMPING TO CONCLUSIONS?_ In case you forgot, Tom Riddle almost killed my sister! He almost killed you and Harry! I am not about to let him do it again! So pardon me for jumping to conclusions! "

Hermione looked away, clearly hurt. 

"Hermione," inquired Harry, " why are you so sure that Professor Riddle isn't you-know-who?"

 "I met him before," replied Hermione 

"WHAT!" Harry and Ron exclaimed in unison

"It was my first time at Diagon Alley. A few days earlier, I received a letter from Hogwarts. My parents couldn't believe it… Anyway, I was looking for Flourish & Blotts bookstore when a bunch of boys dressed in black robes started taunting me. They called me "mudblood". I had no idea what it meant, so I asked them. They just laughed and ran away. Then, a tall man came up from behind. He explained that "mudblood" is an insult invented by so-called pureblooded families. I asked him what he meant. He explained that some wizards think that magic is in your blood. Anyone non-magical taints it, makes it dirty. That's why they don't like wizards who have Muggle parents. They think those wizards are ruining the magic. I asked why they would think something like that. He sighed and explained that it makes them feel superior. Take that away and they will be no different from other wizards. They'll cling to any illusion that makes them feel good about themselves, no matter how stupid it is. He told me that magic has nothing to do with blood. As long as you are willing to try, you can achieve anything - no matter how "pure" your blood is. Then, he just left. I didn't think I would see him again...until today."

Harry's mind was reeling. Hermione met Professor Riddle when Voldemort was still part of Quirrell. The seemingly timid professor was far more discrete disguise then Voldermort's younger, more human-looking alter ego. 

"OK, so he is not you-know-who," conceded Ron, "but what if he is some kind of duplicate of you-know who? Like Tom Riddle's diary."

"Why would he need to make another duplicate?" challenged Hermione

"Haven't you ever wondered why nobody suspected that you-know-who was Tom Riddle," speculated Ron, "surely, his friends would recognize him, no matter how many transformations he went through. But if he creates a duplicate that looks and acts like him, nobody would suspect him."

"There is just one problem with your theory," pointed out Hermione, "the duplicate would have to be the same age as you-know-who. Professor Riddle is young enough to be his son."

"Then how do you explain…"

"I don't know!" screamed Hermione, "I am not some walking encyclopedia! I am going to the library!"

She stormed off, leaving Harry and Ron feeling guilty and confused.

After a few minutes, Harry finally dared to suggest:

"We should probably go back to the Common Room"

"Yep," Ron nodded miserably

They headed back in silence, afraid to say another word.

When they came to the Common Room, they found Ginny in the corner, crying. They rushed to her side:

"Ginny, what's wrong?" asked Harry

"Tom...Riddle," she sobbed, "…he's…he's…."

It hit Harry like a bolt of lighting. The fourth years have the Defense Against Dark Arts before fifth years! Harry berated himself for being so wrapped up in his troubles he completely forgot about Ginny. 

He reached out, giving her a comforting hug. Ginny collapsed into his arms

"It's OK, Ginny," Harry assured her, "it's OK."

She was still crying, but somehow, she didn't seem nearly as desperate as she was a few minutes ago.

"I know seeing Professor Riddle must have been very frightening," continued Harry, "but we don't really know who he is. He might have nothing to do with Voldermort…"

"No!" Ginny screamed, breaking free of Harry's embrace, "it's him! It's him!"

The candles flickered for a few moments; reminding Harry of all the times he lost control of his powers when he was angry.

"Calm down, Ginny," said Ron, "you don't know that for sure."

"I knew him longer then either of you!" cried Ginny, "it's him! It wasn't enough for him to ruin my first year: he had to come back to torment me as a teacher! Why! What did I do to deserve it!"

She burst into to the tears and ran to the girl's dormitory. 

Harry looked at his best friend, feeling even worse then before. 

"You know," said Ron, "I don't care what Hermione says. I am not going to let Tom Riddle hurt my sister again."

**~○~**

I was heading for the library to read up on Russian Gesture Magic. It has been a four days since I came to Hogwarts, and already, it seemed like an eternity.

I never liked written homework: it was tedious, monotone and a pain to check. That's why I made all my homework hands-on. After I taught a few spells, the students had a day to practice them. The next day, I dueled each student, attacking them in the way that would force them to utilize all the skills they acquired. I tried to encourage them to be creative both in attack and defense.

I chuckled, remembering how easily Hermione Granger disabled my _Kiri engai_. Her strategy was a stroke of genius. Even though _Kiri engai _wasn't really a trap, I used it as one, so a trap-deactivating spell was a perfect way to take care of it. 

I heard a lot about the legendary Hermione Granger from members of the Order of Phoenix, but I had no idea she was the girl I met at the Diagon Alley five years ago. She had certainly come a long way, though Remus was right: she is an instinctive know-it-all. 

I thought about her friend, Harry Potter. I could still see Lily's beaming, proud face as she showed the newborn to the members of the Order of Phoenix. We just stared, mesmerized, until four-year-old Ayumi broke the silence:

"Ah, what a cute little baby," she squealed merrily 

Everybody just burst out laughing. Sirius joked that Harry was going to be a ladies man when he grows up, earning a whack on the head from yours truly. 

I looked at James and Lily, who were laughing along with everybody else. They reminded me of the happy, innocent moments Miyuki and I used to share. I swore to myself that I would never let the Dark Lord hurt this family the way he did mine. 

But I couldn't even keep that promise. Few months later, James and Lily were murdered by Voldemort.  I begged Dumbledore to let me take care of Harry, since Sirius, his legal guardian, was in no position to do that, but Dumbledore wouldn't listen. 

It was strange, seeing Harry after all those years. He was much older, much more mature. He had a harsh life, and it showed. I saw how he reacted to me. After his experience with the Dark Lord, I couldn't blame him. But I guess it showed that despite all the horrors he faced, he was still very innocent. That's what makes him different from me. That is why he will never turn to Darkness.

I know. There was a time when Darkness was a big part of my life. It warped my desires, my hopes and my dreams. I did unspeakable things that I have since learned to regret. That is something very few dark wizards ever had a chance to do. That is why I can recognize the touch of Darkness when I see it. That is why when Sirius was accused of murdering all those innocent people; I clung to the belief that he was innocent. It took thirteen years, but eventually, I was proven right.

 Two months ago, Sirius visited me on Dumbledore's behalf to fill me in on the current situation. He told me just about everything there is to know about Harry. He even told me that Harry had a crush on a girl named Cho Chang. I laughed so hard I almost fell off the chair. Back when I was a student at Hogwarts, I knew a Ravenclaw named Qucai Chang. He was a very shy, bookish boy who always hung in the shadows of pretty girls. What could possibly be interesting about his descendent?

After the six-year Ravenclaw/Hugglepuff Defense Against Dark Arts class began, I was ready to take that back. 

Cho Chang reminded me of a very pretty, clever and kind girl I knew during my Hogwarts days. Cho's eyes were larger and her features were somewhat more angular, but other then that, she bore an uncanny resemblance to Mei Ling. 

I didn't know if I should laugh or cry. Mei would up marrying Qucai, of all people. Still, despite his shyness, Qucai was a very nice guy. He deserved to be wind up with someone like Mei.

After class, Cho came up to me, holding her Jakori seeds (I gave them out in every class). 

"Professor Riddle," she asked, "you said that Jakori seeds can protect you against any curse?"

For a moment, I didn't know that to say. I ordered myself to snap out of it. Mei was in the past. I had to focus on the present.

"Yes," I nodded  

"So I was wondering: do they work against Avada Kedavra?"

Of course. Her boyfriend was killed by that curse, and it was partially my fault. I owed her an honest answer:

"I don't know. Nobody ever dared to test that. The risk is just too great. What if the seeds didn't work? They wouldn't be able to live with themselves knowing they murdered an innocent."

Cho's already solemn expression sank even lower. 

"Cedric had Jakori seeds, didn't he?" I realized

"I gave him one as a good luck charm," answered Cho " right before the Third Task. I didn't know what kind of powers it had…" 

"Did it smell like oranges?"

"Yes"

"Then it's a fake. The real Jakori Seeds have a very unique smell. It's almost like some kind of perfume: except if you put it too close to your nose, it will smell like an unflushed toilet."

Cho smiled for a few seconds, then her expression sank again. But I could see how much relief this has brought her.  She was probably berating herself for her naïveté. If only she knew that her gift had a power to protect a person against any curse, perhaps Cedric would still be alive today... Fortunately, that wasn't the case. 

I knew this wouldn't take away her sadness, but at least, it would make it easier to bear.

"Eighteen years ago," I said, "Voldemort killed the only person I truly loved."

Cho looked at me with compassion:

"I am sorry"

I nodded:

"If you ever need someone to talk to, you are welcome to stop by my office"

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."

With that, Cho headed for the door:

"Ms. Chang?" I asked before she had a chance to leave

"Yes?" 

"Do you have any relative named Mei Ling?"

Cho was clearly puzzled by the question, but she answered anyway:

"Well, my grandmother was named Mei _Chang_. I am not sure what her last name was before she married. Why?"

"I met her once," I said vaguely

"You are lucky... She died before I was born."

It took every ounce of my emotional control to keep me from screaming. Mei Ling was dead! After all the hell I put her through, she deserved to live a long, happy life. This wasn't fair!

"Yes," I said, choking back tears, "She was very special."

"Are you alright?"

She was just like Mei. No matter what, she always cared about those around her. It didn't matter who the person was: she was always there to offer a helping hand. That was more then I ever deserved.

"I am sorry, Cho," I sobbed, "I am so, so sorry…"

She rushed me to my side, wrapping her arms around me:

"It wasn't your fault, Professor Riddle. It wasn't your fault."

She had no idea.

We spent the next few hours talking about everything that was on our mind. Cho told me about her family, her relationship with Cedric, Harry and Quidditch. I told her about my family, friends, my job at the Magitech Corps and my own Quidditch exploits back in the day. It was strangely therapeutic for both of us. It made me realize something.  Mei may be gone, but I could still take care of her granddaughter. I owned her that much. 

Eventually, Cho had to leave, but she promised she would to talk to me whenever she has a chance. 

The memory still makes me smile.

Well, I finally reached the library. It was almost completely deserted.  Hermione Granger was sitting at one of the tables, surrounded by piles of books, manuscripts and newspaper articles. 

"You really are an instinctive know-it-all," I smiled

"Who are you, Tom Riddle?" she asked me                       

"I am not Voldemort, if that's what you're wondering. But don't take it from me. I know you'll pursue this mystery even if I'll tell you to stop. For your sake, I hope that you will discover the truth before Voldemort does. Otherwise, not even Hogwarts will be safe."

I went to the international section, leaving Hermione Granger very bewildered.


	4. Chapter 3: Deceptive honesty

**Chapter 3:** Deceptive honesty  

The rest of the school day passed in a blur. After the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, every class was mundane and peaceful. 

Professor Snape hasn't been seen since he left to take care of Dumbledore's assignment, so a new Potions teacher took his place. She introduced herself as Professor Alsius. She was very cold and dry, but beautiful. While she favored Slytherins, she didn't show it nearly as bluntly as Snape.

Hermione had been going to the library whenever she had the chance, forsaking meals and free time. Harry and Ron were starting to worry. Hermione may enjoy studying, but not to such an obsessive degree. Clearly, something was wrong, but after her outburst, Harry and Ron were afraid to ask her about it. 

Harry was eating dinner, glancing over to the Ravenclaw table whenever he had a chance.  There was something different about Cho. Although grief still haunted her, she looked… happier. More hopeful. It was like she saw a shore after months of being lost at sea. Harry wondered what caused this change. Whatever it was, he was glad to see Cho feeling better. 

After Harry finished dinner, he went to Dumbledore's office. Harry hoped the Headmaster hadn't really gone senile and that he could provide some insight into Professor Riddle's identity. 

When Harry reached the gargoyle that concealed the entrance to Dumbledore's office, he realized way too late that he didn't know the password. Harry sighed. Dumbledore had a tendency to come up with the most unlikely passwords, so logic was useless. At least all the passwords had a common theme: candy, which narrowed it down somewhat.  

Taking a deep breath, Harry began rattling off all the candy flavors he could think of, no matter how unusual or disgusting they may be:

"Ssugar quills, acid pops, jelly slugs, pepper imps…"

But no matter what he said, the gargoyle didn't move a millimeter. Harry was ready to give up when he heard someone whisper:

"Skittles"

Sure enough, the gargoyle moved out of the way, exposing the entrance to Dumbledore's office. 

Harry scanned the area for his mysterious benefactor, but the hall was completely empty. He felt a soft breeze as someone (or something) moved past him. Curious, Harry went into the office.

At the first glance, it looked like it hasn't changed one bit since the last time he was there.  But after Harry looked closely, he saw a sleeping bag lying right by the table. The portraits looked at Harry for a brief moment and shifted their glances to Dumbledore's chair. Their eyes twinkled with amusement.

"Hello, Harry."

Sirius was sitting in Dumbledore's chair, holding what Harry immediately recognized as an Invisibility Cloak.  

"Don't scare me like that!" exclaimed Harry.

He was caught completely off-guard. He hasn't heard anything from Sirius since last June. He assumed Sirius was too preoccupied with the coming fight with Voldemort to write anything. Harry never expected him to be _here_. 

"I didn't really have a choice," said Sirius, "it's not safe for the most wanted man in the Wizarding World to walk around Hogwarts plain sight."

Sirius changed considerably since Harry last saw him. He was much cleaner and his hair was slightly shorter. His dirty, filthy robe was gone, replaced by a stylish black robe with yellow stylized Phoenix-like pattern on the front and yellow ornaments on his sleeves. 

"What are you doing here!" asked Harry, "I thought you were supposed to stay at Lupin's!"

"I did. And let me tell you: after spending an entire summer there, I was ready to dedicate myself to fighting against werewolf discrimination of the rest of my life. Anyway, a week ago Dumbledore told the to come to Hogwarts. He said he wants everybody close by in case of an emergency. Most of us are staying at Hogsmeade, but since I was a bit…conspicuous, Dumbledore allowed me stay in his office. That's the last place anyone would look for me." 

"Is it that bad?" asked Harry, knowing full well that if Dumbledore is telling all his forces to stick together, it had to be   

"The word "bad" doesn't even begin to describe it. We are outnumbered and outwanded.  Many of our allies turned their back on us. We had to put down a Dementor uprising and deal with attacks from the Ministry. We haven't heard anything from Hargid or Snape since they left on their missions, " Sirius sighed, "Bottom line is, things aren't looking too bright right now."

"I am sure it will get better," offered Harry.

"I hope so too, Harry. I hope so too…"

For a minute, they didn't talk, contemplating the uncertain future.

"What about you," asked Sirius, "how was your summer?"

"Same as usual, really, except this time, I had Voldemort to worry about. But nothing happened."

He didn't tell Sirius about the endless nights he spent tortured with guilt, or the times he wished Voldemort would just come and end his misery. Sirius had enough to worry about as it is.

"Good," said Sirius. He obviously didn't buy it, but he didn't press the issue.

"By the way," asked Harry, trying to change the topic, "do you know anything about the new Defense Against Dark Arts teacher?"

"Sure. His name is Tom Riddle. According to Dumbledore, he is an expert in all six major forms of magic," he smiled, " This is his first time teaching, so I hope you don't give him too much trouble. "

"Well, I noticed something weird about him. He looks like Voldemort probably would if he didn't go thought all his transformations. Except Professor Riddle looks too young to be alive fifty years ago… Bottom line is, the resemblance is unmistakable."

"Hmm…" Sirius rubbed his chin, "I never actually seen how Voldemort looked like before he went all gray and ugly, so I have to trust your judgment on this one. But Dumbledore has seen Tom Riddle and investigated the new professor. Obviously, he didn't find anything wrong with him, or he wouldn't be teaching. "

 "Dumbeldore had been fooled before," pointed out Harry, "remember Barty Crouch Jr?" 

"How was Dumbledore supposed to know he used the Polyjuice Potion to impersonate Moody?"

"Yeah, but…"

"Give Voldemort some credit. He would never resort to something _this_ blatant. Besides, you can't use Polyjuice Potion to change age. I once tried to make myself look older and wound up throwing up everything I ever eaten," Sirius winced at the memory

"But Ginny said she was sure Professor Riddle was Voldemort, and she knew him better then anyone."

"With all do respect to Ginny, she is in no position to make that kind of judgment. Voldemort's diary left her traumatized. No matter how much time goes by, the scars will always be there. Seeing Tom Riddle must have brought it all back to the surface. Poor Ginny… She is confused and terrified. She probably doesn't know what she's saying."

Harry had to consent that Sirius had a point. 

"Don't worry, Harry," Sirius reassured him, "Tom Riddle is a friend. You can trust him. "

He sounded like he honestly believed what he was saying. And Sirius never lied to him before. Perhaps Hermione was right and Harry really was blowing it out of proportion.  

"So, where is Dumbledore, anyway?" asked Harry, realizing that hasn't seen him all day

"He left to take care of urgent business. He said he'd be back in the few days. He left me enough food to last a month. I also took a few candies from his supply of lemon drops. Just don't tell Dumbledore that or he'll have me skinned alive."

Harry wondered for a moment if Sirius was kidding. 

"Well, I better get back to the Common Room before someone comes looking for me," said Harry, "I'll visit you tomorrow."

"Aright. Just make sure you bring a copy of Daily Prophet, because I am getting really bored down here."

"Sure," Harry said, "good night"

"Good night, Harry"

Harry went out the door headed back to the Common Room. Just when he was about to tell the Fat Lady the password (_Novellus_) when Hermione came up to him. She was carrying a large folder full of papers. 

"Come on, Harry, get inside," Hermione said enthusiastically, " I need to show you something."

Harry followed her, unsure of what she wanted but relieved that she doesn't seem to be mad at him. They quickly found Ron, who looked very happy that Hermione was in a good mood. They found an empty table and sat down, eager to listen to what Hermione had to say.

"Ever since the Defense Against the Dark Arts class," she explained, "I had been looking through the library, hoping to find anything that could clear up who Professor Riddle really is. In the process, I found a few very interesting things.

"The library has a copy of every Daily Prophet ever published. I an expert in Defense Against the Dark Arts of his caliber would be mentioned in the news once or twice. I came up with two articles."

"You mean to tell us," Harry exclaimed in shock, " that you looked through _all _those newspapers?"

"Of course not," Hermione rolled her eyes, "I used the _Accelero Expiscor _spell"

She pulled out two newspapers from the folder.  The headline read: "Mysterious Young Man Saves Village from Death Eaters."

Today, a small village near Hogsmeade was attacked by a gang of twelve Death Eaters. They forced all the villagers out of their houses and lead them to the town square. The soulless murderers threatened to curse each villager one by one unless all the "Mudbloods" come forward. But before anyone could get hurt, a mysterious stranger appeared. 

_"He looked about twenty years old," Margaret Hetch, who was one of the witnesses, told Daily Prophet, "He had really dark hair and he wore an opened black rope over Muggle clothes that were just as dark. I never thought I would see a person look at Death Eaters with such loathing. It was almost like he took the whole thing personally."_

_Without even using a wand, he attacked the Death Eaters, subduing them in the matter of minutes. According to Eric Attonitus, a Grindelwald War veteran who lived in the village_**, **_it was "the most spectacular display of magical combat I have ever seen."_

_The stranger told the villagers to call the authorities and Disapparated before anyone could ask him any questions. _

_We can only speculate on the identity of the mysterious hero, but one thing is for sure, he saved many innocent people. And those who owe him their lives will be eternally grateful."_

The story came with a sketch magically drawn from witnesses' descriptions. Harry stared at it in shock. The "mysterious hero" looked like a slightly older version of Voldemort's younger self.  Harry checked the date on the newspaper. 

October 15, 1973 

That did it for Harry. There was no way Professor Riddle could have possibly been Voldemort. He looked at Ron and saw that his best friend reached the same conclusion. But that still didn't answer the question. Who was he?

Hermione took out a second newspaper. The first page had some story about the International Federation of Warlocks. Hermione flipped the "Business" section. The top story was titled: " Order of Phoenix Honored"

Harry didn't even bother to read the story. A large picture atop of it completely captured his attention. 

It was a photo of the entire Order. His parents were standing side-by-side and waving at him proudly. Sirius and Lupin stood on their right. Sirius held a V sign over his best friend's head, winking at Harry. Lupin gave Harry an encouraging smile.  Peter Pettigrew was standing in his father's shadow, looking like he wanted to crawl into it. Harry looked away in distain. After all the trouble this vermin cost him, Harry had no pity for him. There were a few other people he didn't recognize who smiled at him. 

Standing inconspicuously to the right was Professor Riddle. He didn't look that much older then his parents. He gave Harry a very weird look. While his mouth smiled, his eyes were filled with unspeakable regret. 

So Professor Riddle was part of the Order of Phoenix. This meant that Sirius lied. He met Professor Riddle before. Why would Sirius deceive him?

After finding about that his godfather was innocent, Harry thought Sirius was one person he could really trust. Now, he wasn't so sure.

"The article doesn't have anything that would help us to figure out who Tom Riddle is," said Hermione, " nor does anything else. I spent the past few hours searching everywhere I could think of. Nothing."

"Don't feel bad," Ron tried to comfort her, "at least now we know he isn't You-Know-Who. Right?"

"Right…" Harry said distantly

"Look guys, I am sorry about the way I was acting earlier, " apologized Hermione, " it's just that I have a lot on my mind, and it's stressing me out"

"Like what?" asked Ron

"Oh, nothing that important," she replied evasively.

 She had the same tone as when Ron and Harry asked her about her unusual schedule during their third year. This meant that Hermione had something important to hide. Ron didn't want her to feel torn between being loyal to her friends and loyal to whoever made her keep that secret, so he didn't pursue the subject any further. 

"It's OK, Hermione," he assured her, "we all have our bad days."

They spent the rest of the evening talking about nothing until they finally went to bed.

When Harry slept, he dreamt about a little girl with two cute raven-colored pigtails and emerald eyes singing him to sleep.

The next day, Harry decided to confront Sirius about what he learned. But first, he went to breakfast. 

About a halfway though the meal, he realized that Professor Riddle wasn't there. He had a bad feeling about this. As more time passed, he grew more and more worried. When breakfast ended and Professor Riddle still didn't show up, Harry decided he had to find what was going on.

He told Ron and Hermione he'll meet them later and ran to Professor Riddle's office. As he tried to exit the Great Hall, he almost bumped into Cho Chang. An awkward silence seemed to have filled the room they stared at each other.  

"Hello, Harry…"

"Hello, Cho…"

More silence followed

"How are you?"

"Good," she declared after an incredibly long pause. She didn't sound good at all.

"Good," nodded Harry, feeling like he was going to burn up from embarrassment.

"Have you seen Professor Riddle by any chance?" she asked, obviously as desperate to end this awkward situation as he was.  

"No," Harry shook his head, "I was just going to his office to see if he was alright."

Cho regarded him curiously:

"I was just about to do the same thing."

"Then perhaps we should go…" 

"Yeah…"

Without saying another word, they dashed to Professor Riddle's office. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry realized that Ginny wasn't at breakfast, either, but he didn't think it was important. If only he knew…

They were just about to reach the door when they heard the angry cry:

"Commodus Contundo!" 

Harry was horrified to realize that the voice belonged to Ginny. And she was shouting a spell that Harry knew could flatten a person into a pancake. A spell she wasn't supposed to know anyway. What was going on here! 

Cho was way ahead of him. She pulled out her want and shouted: "Alohomora!" The door swung open, revealing a shocking scene.

Ginny was pointing her wand at Professor Riddle. Her eyes had a look of pure malice. Professor Riddle had his back against the wall. He was making a series of rapid gestures while chanting something under his breath. Suddenly, a strange glowing sign appeared in front of him. Ginny's spell bounced against the sign without leaving any trace. Before she could regroup, Professor Riddle waved his hand and cried "anteishita nami ", sending Ginny flying into a nearby wall. She bounced against it and fell like a rag doll. 

"What are you doing!" cried Harry, rushing to Ginny's side. She was still breathing.

"What's going on here, Professor Riddle?" asked Cho, who seemed to be more surprised then shocked. 

"Don't worry," he assured them, "this spell was meant to relax her. I think I overdid it and made her too relaxed. But don't worry. The spell will wear off in five minutes."

That wasn't good enough for Harry:

"Why were you and Ginny fighting?"

"She attacked me. I think she mistook me for Voldemort," he shook his head, "stupid diary. After all those years, it's still causing so much pain."

Cho looked at him in shock. She didn't know the truth about Voldemort's identity. But Harry did. And as he listened to the professor's voice, he realized that Tom Riddle didn't just know about the diary: he remembered it.

"Alright, that's enough," Harry exclaimed, pointing his wand at the mysterious wizard, "I am tired of all the riddles, I am tired of all the mind games and I am sick and tired of all the lies. Who are you and what do you want?" 

Author's note: Tom Riddle's gestures are the examples of Russian gesture magic that he looked up the previous chapter


	5. Chapter 4: Revelations

**Chapter 4:** Revelations 

Not to self: never reminisce about the old days when you're talking to someone determined to figure out your true identity. 

Harry wasn't just angry. He was very, very annoyed. Considering people have been messing with his mind since the first time he came to my class, I couldn't blame him.

"Alright, that's enough," Harry screamed in frustration, "I am tired of all the riddles, I am tired of all the mind games and I am sick and tired of all the lies. Who are you and what do you want?" 

In a flash, Cho pulled out her own wand making it very clear that if the Boy Who Lived made one wrong move, he might not live up to his reputation for long.

"Harry, put down you wand RIGHT NOW! You are not going to hurt him."

Me, I simply smiled:

"It's OK, Cho. If Harry wants to know the truth, I'll tell him. "

The two teenagers hesitantly lowered their wands.

"You might want to sit down for this one. You too, Cho. I owe you that much."

The fight with Ginny damaged most of the furniture in the office, so we simply sat on the floor. 

"It all started with a young boy named Tom Marvolo Riddle. He was born in 1927. Tom didn't exactly have a nice childhood. His mother died shortly after he was born. His father was nowhere to be found.  He was put in an orphanage that was far from ideal. When he was eleven, Tom found out that he was a wizard. The discovery gave him a new sense of purpose. He decided to put his past behind him and work to become the most powerful wizard that ever lived. Having experienced pain all his life, he was determined to use his powers to help the less fortunate.   

"During his second year, he met a pretty, kind girl named Mei Ling. For the next two years, he pined after her until he finally got up the courage to ask her out. She said yes.  For the first time ever, Tom felt completely happy. 

Two months later, Tom wound up fighting Grindelwald, the most powerful Dark Wizard at the time. Tom barely survived. While his injuries healed, his soul was permanently scarred. All his pain was brought back to the surface. Finding out that his father abandoned his mother after he found out she was a witch made things even worse. Tom became moody, obsessive and angry. He was determined to have revenge on all those who wronged him no matter what it would take. 

Yet, there was another side of Tom. A part of him still cared for his best friends and loved Mei Ling. Part of him still wanted to do good. He began to lead a double life. To the people he cared about, he was still good, compassionate and selfless. But in private, he dabbled in Dark Arts. He began gathering a small group of followers. Together, they harassed the Muggle-born wizards and witches that they deemed "unworthy to study magic". To him, the name "Tom" represented his good side, so he eventually came up with the name "Voldemort", which he used privately among his consorts. 

For years, Tom tried to keep his two lives separate. But all the bad things he has done weighted heavily on his conscience. This conflict between two personas slowly eroded him moral clarity. In private, he became more and more willing to physically hurt people to get what he wanted.  Eventually, even killing was no longer a problem.  As the darkness in his soul grew, it began to creep into his public life. He became cruel to his loved ones. Even Mei wasn't safe from his wrath…"

I had to pause to regain my composure

"But despite everything, she still loved Tom. She remembered the boy who fell in love with her and she tried to bring him back. She was failing. By the end of their final year, Mei became afraid for herself. Shortly before graduation, Mei broke up with Tom.

Tom was heartbroken and angry. He decided that his good side was a weakness that he must get shed if he could ever hope to become of a truly powerful wizard. He traveled the world. He consulted all kinds of Dark Wizards until he finally came up with an ideal solution. He hoped to use an ancient Tibetan ritual to purge himself of all goodness. It was a long, tedious procedure, but Tom was patient.

There was just one thing he failed to account for. Once purged, the goodness doesn't just vanish. It has to go somewhere. 

I woke up lying in a small, pretty clearing, naked. I instinctively summoned my wand. Nothing happened. As you know, a wizard can summon his wand from anywhere. I was naked, alone and defenseless. I tried to recall what happened. I remembered the ritual, then…nothing. A large portion of my memory was completely blank.  Where was I? How did I get here? Did the ritual work? 

I got up, staring at the rising sun. It's waking light dyed the feather-like clouds gold. A group of birds sprouted into the sky, celebrating a new beginning.  A beam of light danced in the blades of grass, reflecting against tiny droplets of water. It was more beautiful than anything I have ever seen (Mei came pretty close, but she was a person, not a place). That's when it hit me. If my goodness were truly purged, I wouldn't have taken the time to admire the view. Evil cannot appreciate beauty- it can only corrupt it.   

As a matter a fact, I couldn't feel as much a spec of darkness in my soul. All the evil that has condensed into it over the years was completely gone. And the strange thing was, I didn't mind at all. For the first time since my encounter with Grindelwand, I felt…free. 

I wandered through the forest until I stumbled onto a group of Muggle hikers. I told them part of the truth: that I woke up in a forest without any idea how I got there. They fed me, gave me some clothes and offered to take me to the city. I gladly accepted.  

As we rode to the city, I began to feel like something was seriously wrong. The feeling intensified when I got closer to the city. The cars that passed us by looked different then what I was used to. Some of the clothes people wore defied fashion sense. At first, I thought all those people were weirdoes, but then we got to the city, _everybody_ was this weird. As soon I was dropped off, I ran to find the most recent newspaper. I checked the date. _June 6th, 1971. _ Somehow, I wound up twenty-six years in the future. 

I was determined to find out what happened to me. Unfortunately, I didn't have much time to think about those things, since I had to find a way to earn money. Luckly, I still had a permit from Ministry of Magic of Britain to practice magic in public (as long as my audience doesn't realize it's real), so I became a stage magician.  Meanwhile, I began hearing persistent rumors about a new order of Dark Wizards known as Death Eaters. They attacked Muggle-born wizards and pro-Muggle wizards using cruel, ruthless methods even I never resorted to. Nobody knew who they really were, but everybody whispered the name of their enigmatic leader: "Voldemort". 

Everything I knew and everything I learned finally clicked together. The ritual worked exactly the way it was supposed to. Tom Marvolo Riddle became a creature of pure malice, unrestrained by conscience and guilt. But the goodness he expelled still existed. Its only purpose was to defy Voldermort's evil. The darker he became, the more powerful the goodness became. But then he did something so unspeakable that the goodness could not stand by and watch. It became… me. 

The dark wizard who told Tom Marvolo Riddle about the ritual warned him that "the price is far more dangerous then the gain. " Of course, Voldemort was too arrogant to take it seriously.  

My world was turned upside down. I needed to figure out what I was and where I belonged. I traveled the planet, visiting different masters of magical arts, learning their craft. It was a time of self-discovery, occasionally interrupted by the attacks of Death Eaters. They got bolder and their numbers grew. I couldn't fight the entire organization, but I fought any Death Eater who dared to hurt the innocent people on my watch.

Eventually, I made my way to Hogwarts. I discovered that the new headmaster, Dumbledore, was gathering an alliance against Voldemort. I told him my tale, confirming what he already suspected: Tom Marvolo Riddle and Voldemort were in fact one and the same.  Dumbledore asked for my help, but I declined. How could I commit myself to anything if I wasn't even sure who I was?

I spent another two years traveling, until eventually, I made my way to Japan. It's a fairly unique place in a Wizariding world. Here, magic never quite went out of fashion; so Japanese wizards still see themselves as a part of Japanese Muggle society. Unlike European and American wizards, Japanese Wizards don't have a distinct Wizard culture. Personally, I liked it this way. 

I was looking for Hirata Jikeiikou, one of the most renowned practitioners of East Asian style of magic.  Despite his best attempts, I had little trouble finding him. That alone impressed him so much he agreed to teach me. 

As I was patiently learning his craft, I got to know his daughter. Her name was Miyuki. For reasons I could not hope to grasp, she fell in love with me. Even though I felt the same way, I tried to discourage her. After what happened to Mei, I didn't want to risk hurting another innocent girl. But Miyuki wouldn't take no for an answer. She decided that I was brooding too much and set out to show me how to have fun. At first, I resisted, but then I realized that she made me happy. Miyuki was funny, clever, insightful, kind, graceful and unbelievably beautiful. She offered her love without conditions, without any reservations. Even finding out my true nature didn't change her mind. Suddenly, my past no longer mattered. I found what I have been searching for.  I was Tom Riddle, a Muggleborn Light Wizard. I belonged in Japan with Miyuki by my side.  

I decided to start over. Miyuki and I got married. I may have failed with Mei, but I was not about to fail with Miyuki.  I decided to forget about my past and try to start over. We got married. Few months later, we had a beautiful baby girl. We decided to name her "Ayumi".  It was a Japanese name, yet it could be easily abbreviated to a more English-sounding "Amy". 

Meanwhile, the Death Eaters were growing bolder. Dumbledore and his supporters tried their best to fight them, but they didn't have much success. One day, Dumbledore showed up at my house and asked me to join the Order of Phoenix. Once again, I declined. I had a fulfilling, peaceful life. I wasn't about to let my past ruin it. 

I thought I could run away from my past. Miyuki paid the ultimate price for my arrogance.

Ayumi was barely four months old when I came to my house and found Voldemort sitting in my living room. He was a gruesome sight, a hideous corruption of everything Tom Marvolo Riddle once was. But in a way, it was fitting. His appearance finally matched his soul. 

Voldemort was quite alarmed to discover my existence.  I knew too much. I could expose his true identity to the world. I could tell his followers things that would make them turn away from him for good. Normally, Voldemort would kill anyone who threatened him, but our powers were about evenly matched. So, Voldemort offered a position of power in his organization.  I laughed in his face. I knew how he operated. Voldemort let his lackeys believe they had the power, while carefully making sure they never gained enough real power to escape his control. Voldemort changed tactics, promising to give me whatever I wanted.  I told him that I already had everything I could ever want. Enraged, Voldemort swore he would make me suffer for my insolence and left. Confident in my power, I didn't take his warning seriously.  

Tow days later, I went shopping for a few hard-to-find magical ingredients Miyuki wanted. After hours of hunting legends, I went to a shrine owned by Miyuki's family to drop off my purchases. I was looking forward to a nice, relaxing bath. Instead, I found a Dark Mark floating over the shrine.  

I didn't think. I just ran. 

Voldemort was standing over Miyuki's body, watching as she drew her last breath. I ran to her side, but I was too late. My precious Miyuki, the love of my life died in my arms. I held her lifeless body, weeping.  She was gone, and there was no magic in the world that could bring her back. Voldemort just stood there, gloating at my sorrow. That bastard! I reached for my wand, ready to make this monster pay for murdering Miyuki. But before I could cast a spell, he dissapparated away. 

"I wanted to weep. I wanted to destroy. I wanted to mourn Miyuki. But I knew Voldemort wasn't through with me. I made arrangements to give Miyuki proper burial, took Ayumi and left Japan the next day. I knew I couldn't do this alone.  I went to Hogwarts and asked for protection for my daughter. In exchange, I promised to join the Order of Phoenix. Dumbledore didn't judge. He just said he was glad to have me on his side. 

For the nest few years, I fought side by side with some of the most remarkable wizards of their generation. We couldn't defeat Voldemort, but I like to think that we made a difference. We saved millions of innocent lives. We made it possible for ten million more children to be born. My only regret is that I couldn't prevent Harry's parents' deaths. 

A few weeks before, I began to suspect that Peter Pettigrew was passing on information to someone else. But I didn't have enough evidence to prove it, so I kept quiet.  As a result, the Potters were murdered and an innocent man was blamed for betraying them."

I sighed

"After Voldemort was defeated, I returned to Japan. I tried to raise Ayumi as best as I could, and at the end; I think I did a fairly good job. I made a good life for us.  But I can no longer escape my past. All the crimes Tom Marvolo Riddle committed are on my hands. I let the darkness take him over. I stood by, helpless, while it ruined the lives of those Tom held dear, while it perverted everything good and decent about him. And no matter what I do, Voldemort is part of me. As much as I hate him for murdering all those innocent people and for ruining countless lives, I feel responsible for it, too. 

A few months ago, I learned that Voldemort returned.  Dumbledore offered a job here so I could be on hand in case he needs me. The rest, as they say, is history.  "

For a while, there was just silence.  Harry and Cho had a lot to process. My tale must have opened up many old wounds, but I didn't regret telling them the truth. No matter what the others may say, they had a right to know.  

Finally, Harry smiled. It was a sad smile of an enlightened fool. 

"And I thought spending the entire summer blaming myself for Cedric's death was bad…. I can't imagine what it's like for you to feel responsible for all those terrible things. I just can't imagine." 

"You blamed yourself for Cedric's death!" Cho asked Harry, completely shocked. He nodded.

"Why?"

"Because if I didn't suggest that we hold the Triwizard Cup, he would still be alive today. And… I couldn't bear thinking about how much pain I caused you. You loved Cedric, and I let him die…"

"Harry…I am so sorry. I had no idea… For what it's worth, I never blamed you for Cedric's death… [I rolled my eyes. I knew better.] OK, maybe a few times… But then, coming back to Hogwarts, I listened to people I knew eagerly blaming this whole thing on you. And I realized that it wasn't fair. He was killed by one of Voldemort's flunkies, not you… I felt guilty for ever blaming this on you."

"No, Cho. Please don't feel guilty. I…"

In the movies, those kinds of scenes tend to end in kissing, or at least a proclamation of love. Alas, this was not a movie, so we had to settle for a hug. 

Harry was grinning from ear to ear. I winked at him. Having gotten plenty of hugs from Mei, I could relate. 

Finally, they parted and Harry asked:

"Tom. Why didn't you tell me the truth from the beginning? It would have saved us a lot of trouble."

"And miss this scene?" I laughed, "not a chance. Seriously, though, it was Dumbledore's idea. He wanted to see how far would you be willing to go to find out the truth about me. Would you give up after the first dead end, or would you pursue the truth no matter what? Would it ever occur to you to ask? Sirius and I thought it was a bad idea, but we had to play along."

"Why would Dumbledore do something like this?"

"Because he believes truth is one of the most important parts of our struggle against Voldemort. Death Eaters' beliefs are based on ignorance, secrecy and lies. It's not enough to defeat them. We must discredit their mission so that nobody would take up their cause again. Problem is, most people aren't willing to search for the truth. They just eat up whatever someone else hands to them. But there are people who try to find the truth on their own. They are the kind of people Dumbledore is looking for. After all, what's the point of fighting for truth if the fighters don't even believe in it?  So, before Dumbledore invited your parents into the Order, he devised a test to see if they were what he was looking for. From then on, every potential member (except for yours truly) must go through some version of that test before they can join the Order. You would be amazed how many people failed it. You didn't quite go as we planned, but you asked me to tell you the truth. You were willing to believe it. Technically, you passed the test. Of course, if you still want to kill Sirius for lying to you, don't let me stop you."

Harry smiled. It will take a little while before he realizes that he was actually chosen to fight side by side with the veterans of the last struggle against Voldemort. Until then, I'll just let Harry enjoy himself. 

"So does this mean I get to join the Order of Phoenix, too?" piped in Cho

"Dumbledore never considered you a candidate. But if you want to, I can vouch for you.  "

"I'll think about it."

"By the way, Harry. One of those days, you might to fill in Cho on the few details she still doesn't know about. I mean, since she knows about me, you might as well tell her that Sirius Black is your Godfather."

"WHAT?" Cho's face turned pale. 

"Well, you see…" 

As Harry told Cho the story about how Sirius got framed for the murders that made him infamous, I went to check up on Ginny. _Anteishita nami_ should have worn off by now. 

Ginny was gone.


	6. Chapter 5: Salazar's Clause

**Chapter 5:** Salazar's Clause 

I stood atop of the Coetus Templum, one of Hogwart's smaller southern towers, using magically enhanced vision to scan the school grounds. Sirius was combing every inch of the Forbidden Forest. Lupin checked places only the infamous Marauders knew about. Other members of the Order of Phoenix were somewhere in the area. With Dumbledore absent until further notice, Professor McGonagall was our acting commander-in-chief. And our standing orders were "find Ginny Weasley, no matter what it takes." So, here we were. 

Our search was complicated by McGonagall's reluctance to "scare the children". OK, so a student vanishing from Hogwarts was fairly unusual, but that was no reason not to tell the students what was going on. 

A large black dog came out of the forest. I whistled. Calling his appearance "a mess" would of been too kind. His expression made it obvious that even after he went through he came back empty-pawed.

I picked up my broom and flew to the other side of the lake.

"_Fumonnifusu_!" I cried as soon as I landed, shielding us from the prying eyes.

Sirius changed into his human form. He looked as bad as he did a few moments ago. His new robes were splattered with all kinds of colorful substances. Parts of it were ripped to shreds, revealing a little more then I ever wanted to see.

"_Vestimentum Reparo_!" I screamed in panic, pointing my wand as Sirius. In a flash, his robes were good as new. 

"Thanks," Sirius allowed a brief hint of a smile, "speaking of clothes, I see you are back to your Muggle rags."

 Like I said before, I don't like wizard clothing, so I used the search as an opportunity to change into a black duster, black pants and a black shirt. I kept the shoes.

"The duster is kind of like a robe, isn't that enough?"

"That thing is called _duster_?" he rolled his eyes, "Muggles… I swear, sometimes…."

I raised my hand to cut him off:

"Did you find anything?"

"No," Sirius' expression hardened, "nothing, zip, zilch, nada."

"McGonagall is not going to like this…"

"You know, Tom, next time you want to tell your life story, do us all a favor AND MAKE SURE THE WORLD DOESN'T END BEFORE YOU ARE DONE!"

"She was unconscious, for Kannon's sake! How was I supposed to know she would decide to vanish into the thin air!"

Sirius looked away.

"Well, she couldn't have disapparated," he mumbled, "We know she isn't anywhere in Hogwarts, unless Remus turns something up… If she left Hogwarts, the watcher charms at all the major entrances would have been triggered. I don't know how about you, but I am all out of ideas."

I shook my head:

"The charms, spells and curses that guard Hogwarts are designed to protect against Merlin magic. This gives a wizard familiar with several forms of magic a weakness he could exploit."

"How many wizards fall under that category?"

"Last time I checked, less then a dozen…  Oh, bloody hell! "

"I don't like the sound of that…"

"Voldemort is one of them."

"Do you think.…"

"He knows what his diary did to Ginny! He could of…"

"Professor Riddle?"

I spun around, pointing my wand in the direction of the voice.

"Ginny?" I gasped 

"Yes, sir. Where am I? What's going on here?"

Sirius quickly changed into a dog and ran out of sight

"What was the last thing you remember?" I asked

"I remember you telling Harry and Cho who you really were…"suddenly, her eyes filled with tears, "oh, I am so sorry I attacked you. How could I've been so foolish?"

 I hugged her, letting her tears soak my  "Muggle rags":

"Don't worry," I smiled, "I get that a lot."

As soon as Ginny calmed down, I took her to see McGonagall. Naturally, the deputy headmistress was very pleased to have a student back. I wanted to question Ginny, but McGonagall insisted that she needs rest. Knowing that it would be futile to point out that this may be a matter of life and death, I shrugged and went to find Hermione Granger.

By that time, Harry told his friends about my true nature. That probably didn't stop Hermione from doing more research anyway. After all, magic is a constant learning process.  Besides, she will always be "an instinctive know-it-all".

Sure enough, Hermione was sitting at the same library table as yesterday, only this time it wasn't quite as cluttered. She was reading an old edition of Daily Prophet. As soon as I stepped though the door, she looked up:

"What time is it?" she yawned

I glanced at my watch, earning a curious look from Hermione:

"17:30. I can't believe it! How did I manage to waste an entire day?"

"Well, rumor has it you were looking for Ginny. "

"So much for Professor McGonagall's attempts to keep it a secret."

"This is Hogwarts. Nothing stays secret unless it's in plain sight."

I sighed:

"Too true, too true."

We paused, regarding each other curiously. 

"How come Chinese wizards can fly?"  Hermione blurted out

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, it's common knowledge that there is no spell that can actually make a person fly. Yet Chinese wizards seem to have no problem doing it. Why is that?"

"Ah," I smiled, "have you ever seen Hong Kong action movies?"

"No, why?"

"Never mind. Anyway, Chinese wizards don't really fly. They simply came up with an incantation that allows them drop their weight to the point where a casual jump becomes a huge leap. The spell only works for six minutes, but if you are a fast enough, it can come a long way." 

"Oh, I get it now. Thank you."

"Any other questions?" I smiled

"I don't know where to start. There are so many things I…."

The rest of the sentence was blocked out by a loud telepathic cry:

Dad!

Ayumi? I answered, what's going on?

Dumbledore told me to tell you that Voldemort is on his way to Hogwarts!

I swore under my breath. 

Thank you

I knew Voldemort would find out about my presence at Hogwarts sooner or later. As a matter a fact, I was counting on it. But I never expected it to be this soon. We were not ready!  

Normally, I would hesitate to use telepathy to contact the others, but this was hardly a normal situation. I visualized Sirius and called out to him:

This is Tom. Get the Order to Hogwarts NOW!

I didn't wait for Sirius to reply. 

McGonagall, Voldemort is coming to Hogwarts. Get the students to safety

Hermione was staring at me strangely. Considering how I must have looked, I couldn't blame her.

 "Come with me," I ordered her. She must have sensed how serious it was, because she dropped the newspaper and followed me without another word.

I ran to the main entrance, using magic to get there as quickly as possible. All around us, the students hurried to their Common Rooms. Thanks to special enchantments that kicked in when Hogwarts was threatened, they were the safest places in the castle. 

Ever since the beginning of the conflict between Voldemort's Death Eaters and Dumbledore's Order of Phoenix, people wondered how come Voldemort never attacked Hogwarts. Many assumed Voldemort was afraid of Dumbledore. The reality wasn't quite so simple.

It all started a thousand years ago, when Hogwarts was founded. Soon after the school began to admit it's first students, differences between the Founders began to emerge. Godric Gryffindor became concerned that those disagreements may erupt into a full-fledged feud, so he asked Rowena Ravenclaw for advice. She came up with what seemed like a perfect solution. It was an incredibly complex spell that required the life forces of four casters. If one caster kills another on Hogwarts ground, ALL casters die. She realized that no matter how much the Founders may disagree with each other, they would never endanger their own well-being. Even Salazar Slytherin agreed it was fair. 

After the Founders died, the spell passed on to their descendents. Today, there is hardly a wizard in Europe and Americas that doesn't have at least a pint of Founder blood. Triggering the spell now would kill Voldemort and wipe out most of his lieutenants, not to mention a very good portion of wizard population. Voldemort may be a ruthless bastard, but he knows that such a catastrophe is not in his interest.

I opened the front gate, motioning Hermione to get behind me. McGonagall came down the staircase, wand ready. Sirius emerged from somewhere on the right. The rest of Order followed suit.

I glanced around and took a deep breath. My wand was in my right hand, concealed by the sleeve of the duster. Hermione looked around, probably wondering what she was doing here. I am sure the others wanted to know the same thing.

I could only hope Hermione figured out what my hint meant.

My heart beat loudly against the silent halls of the castle. I tried to distract myself by imagining all the possibly strategies the Dark Lord might use, but it wasn't working.

_Where are you, Voldemort? _

The sky above Hogwarts suddenly darkened as the wind picked up speed. It whirled around in circles, forming a pitch-black tornado. It flew across the lake, growing in size with every passing meter. With a loud crash, it touched down in front of the gate.

The castle's defensive spells kicked in, creating a barrier to protect us from the debris. When the dust settled, a group of black-robed wizards stood before us, completely untouched by the destruction around them.     

I had to give Voldemort credit for one thing: he knew how to make an entrance.

The lead wizard took off his hood, revealing a demonic, snake-lake visage that haunted my nightmares for the past eighteen years.

"Ah, good old Hogwarts," he smiled, enjoying the damage he caused, "how I missed thee."

"What do you want, demon spawn?" McGonagall inquired coldly

"Why Minevra," he sneered, "this is not a way to treat a former classmate. I thought Dumbledore taught you better then that."

McGonagall's face showed nothing.

"I am not here to make trouble," Voldemort continued, "I just want to settle an old score with the member of you faculty, that's all."

"I will not allow it, " McGonagall declared sternly.

"I could, of course, attack Homestead instead. You may be able to stop us from killing everyone, but a few innocent people are bound to die before the battle is over. So what would it be – a duel that might end my life or a battle that is sure to end many innocent lives?"

"You know perfectly well what happens if you kill Professor Riddle on Hogwarts grounds."

"You mean _Vitaorigo Munimentum _spell?" Voldemort looked genuinely amused, "According to the Salazar Clause of the key incantations "If a wizard challenges oneself to a duel to right a wrong, then the bound of the spell shall be revoked till the duel ends." " 

Everybody looked at me, hoping that I would deny it. I simply nodded. Back when Voldemort and I were one and the same, we uncovered Salazar Slytherin's diary. When the spell was composed, he insisted that his clause would be inserted into the incantations. Otherwise, he simply wouldn't participate. The other Founders didn't see any harm in it, so they agreed. 

Years later, when I discovered the truth about what I was, I remembered that Tom Marvolo Riddle learned about the purification ritual from Salazar's diary. I realized that my ancestor knew about its side effect and hoped that someday, one of his descendents would undergo the ritual. It was the only way anyone could ever take advantage of Salazar's Clause. Sure, Voldemort and I were very different people, but we were parts of the same being. As far as the magic was concerned, that was enough.

"True," Hermione chimed in, "but according to Rowena's Clause "if dueling, none but the duelists shall be harmed or the spell shall return." "

_Wait to go Ms. Granger! I knew I could count on you._

Voldemort growled and gave Hermione a stare that promised a painful death sometime in the near future. The Death Eaters, who hoped that Salazar's Clause would give them opportunity to slaughter some mudbloods, moaned in disappointment. Meanwhile, the entire Order of Phoenix looked very pleased with itself. Even McGonagall smiled. 

"Very well," spat Voldemort, "do you, Tom Riddle, agree to settle our score honorably and fairly?"

"I do."

"Good," a small smirk crept across his face, "Death Eaters – attack Homestead!"

I didn't bother pointing out that he lied. It was in his nature. Besides, I was bound by Salazar's Clause to finish the duel. Until Voldemort was dead, there was nothing I could do.

The Death Eaters produced brooms from their ropes and took off, cackling like supervillans from Muggle television. 

"Oh no you don't!" Lupin cried, "_Sagitto_!"

Eight arrows shot from his wand. Four of them found their targets, slicing the Death Eaters' brooms in the half. The rest got caught in Death Eater's robes.

Before Voldemort could say anything else, I invoked another clause of the protective spell – a right to choose where the duel takes place:

"_Adactus _Coetus Templum!"

Before I could even blink, we appeared on the first floor of the tower. This was a place where fifty years ago, Tom Marvolo Riddle almost lost his life to Grindelwald. This was a place where Voldemort was born. This shall be a place where Voldemort will die.

_Ashes to ashes, dust to dust_

"Let's do it."


End file.
